


Fantasy Realism

by LadyDrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, M/M, MERMAID STILES, Minor Danny Mahealani/Stiles Stilinski, POV Derek Hale, Pining, Werewolf Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 20:46:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9256370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: Stiles is a mermaid, Derek is a werewolf, and they've been best friends for years. Stiles is in love with Lydia, and Derek... accepts it, and shoves his own affection for Stiles down deep. Until one day when Stiles makes a surprising announcement, and leaves Derek to deal with a lot of emotional turmoil.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [imjustanawkwardgoth](http://imjustanawkwardgoth.tumblr.com/) as a present for [Emma](http://pale-silver-comb.tumblr.com/). I totally shamelessly pumped you for information for this, Emma, I hope you'll forgive me. 
> 
> Betaed by my old friend TLI. Bless you. <3

“Ugh,” Derek sighs as he flops down on the dock. “Laura is just... _nnggrrh_ ,” he snarls, curling his fingers until his claws come out. “If she wasn't my sister I would've... gah, I dunno!”

 

There's a splash from the ocean below, and then the wet slap of fish scales on the dock next to him.

  
“Did you ever consider it might be a little bit presumptuous of you to just start talking without even knowing if I'm there? I could be elsewhere, you know, I have stuff to do,” Stiles says, and Derek huffs.

 

“You haven't had stuff to do at sunset for like five years. And last week you did the same to me, you started ranting as soon as your head was above water without even checking if I was on the dock.”

 

“...alright, touché. What did Laura do this time, then?”

 

Derek sighs again and flops a tired arm over his eyes, his claws slowly receding. “Same thing she always does. First she gloats about her alpha training, and then she takes her frustrations over said training out on me afterwards. I'm getting really tired of being her personal punching bag.”

 

“Ahhhh. Sibling affection,” Stiles says dreamily, propping himself up on an elbow, droplets of seawater splashing against Derek's cheek. “The glory of being an only child,” he concludes with a grin, and Derek blindly pokes at him. From the feel of it he makes contact roughly where the scales become skin right above the hipbone, and Stiles snickers. “Dude, that tickles.”

 

“Then stop being a dick and show some sympathy.”

 

“Hey, you know I'm on your side, man,” Stiles says, and flops down wetly again. It's quiet for a while, and Derek savors it, knowing that it's only a matter of time before Stiles talks more. He's completely unable to keep quiet, and even though Derek likes the quiet, the familiarity of Stiles chattering away always makes him feel better. “So, remember how I was gonna ask Lydia out?”

 

Derek swallows. He remembers vividly. Stiles has never made it a secret how much he loves Lydia, ever since he and Derek first became friends several years ago. Derek has spent many hours on this very dock listening to Stiles rhapsodizing about Lydia's virtues, detailing his plans for their life together, as well as his fears regarding taking that first important step of actually asking her out. His whole five year plan. Derek has done his best to be a supportive friend, even though he always found it unlikely that Lydia would ever even realize Stiles exists. Stiles has offered him the same in return on the rare occasions Derek's dated anyone, after all.

 

“Yeah? I... didn't know you'd finally set a date for it,” Derek says cautiously.

 

“I hadn't. And... well.” He goes quiet again, and Derek lets his arm drop away from his eyes, turning his head to look at Stiles. His upturned nose and slightly pouting lips make a distinctive profile against the pink sunset, and Derek feels almost dizzy from how beautiful he is. It's not the first time he feels like this, and it definitely won't be the last. They were barely teenagers when Derek's pack moved here, and ever since that first fateful night that Derek went to the dock for solitude, only to find someone else already there, they've been friends. Close friends.

 

And for the longest time, that's all it was. Derek was trapped in classic middle child issues and a rough werewolf puberty, and Stiles was lonely. They both needed someone, and the species divide never seemed like much of a divide at all. Especially after Stiles became more accomplished with magic so they could actually visit each other sometimes. But mostly, they just met here, at least once a day, on this dock.

 

It's been the most important friendship of Derek's life.

 

Which means, of course, that he's bound to ruin it. Derek is really good at ruining things.

 

“I've, uh... decided to...” Stiles trails off again, and Derek waits, feeling a little sick inside. “I'm not going to.”

 

Derek rolls to his side to fix Stiles with a worried look. “You're gonna negotiate through your father? I thought you said you didn't wanna follow the arranged marriage tradition? You must have spent weeks ranting about how arcane and idiotic it is, and how it shits all over free will!”

 

As much as Derek is surprised, it's never been out of the realm of possibility. Derek is a realist, and from everything Stiles has told him about Lydia, Derek's always secretly thought that arranged marriage would be the only way Stiles would ever have any actual shot at marrying her. But Stiles always vehemently refused to take that route. Said he respected Lydia too much, and that he was gonna work towards killing that tradition as soon as he was of age.

 

But things change, and Stiles came of age in merfolk terms the previous year. So perhaps he's changed his mind.

 

“What? No.” Stiles turns to him with a frown. “No, I'm just... not gonna ask her out.”

 

“You lost me,” Derek says, frowning right back.

 

Stiles heaves a heavy sigh, and looks to the sky again. “What I mean is... I'm dropping the five year plan.”

 

Derek's stomach does something swoopy and fluttery, but he keeps his face as impassive as he can. “Okay? Why?”

 

“Because... well, it's... it's been coming for a long time, I think. It just took me a while to realize it.”

 

“Realize what?”

 

Stiles actually looks away, face turning towards the sunset as he speaks, and Derek misses his eyes already. “That... that you have to actually be in love with someone to really want to be with them.”

 

Derek blinks. “But- but you _are_ in love with Lydia! You've been in love with her all the time I've known you!”

 

“I _was_ in love with her. For years,” Stiles tells the sinking sun. “But I think I've realized lately that I've been more in love with the _idea_ of her. Hell, I think I was more in love with my five year plan than I ever was with her. Not that she isn't still gorgeous and amazing, because she is, and if she does end up taking over the world I'll be totally happy to be her loyal servant for the rest of my days.” He sighs, and Derek waits on pins and needles for what might come next. “But you can't... love someone _equally_ if you worship them. And Lydia's always been so... above me. In everything. I don't think I'll ever be able to reach her level. And I don't ever wanna tear her down to get her to mine. She deserves better.”

 

“That's stupid,” Derek says, and immediately hates himself a little bit, because this should be the moment he seizes his chance. But if there's one thing he can't stand it's hearing Stiles put himself down, and it's become something of a knee-jerk response to jump to his defense. So there's nothing to do but power through. “You're every bit as amazing as Lydia is.”

 

Stiles shakes his head, and Derek reaches out to turn his face back so their eyes can meet. “Yes, you are. Maybe not in the same areas, but you are. And I wish you could see that.”

 

“That's not the point, Derek,” Stiles says, eyes darting down to avoid contact. “She deserves someone who can be _with_ her as she works towards her goals. All I've ever wanted was to... _have_ her. Be her husband and get to tell people she's mine and I'm hers. I've never actually...” his eyes finally dart up to meet Derek's, and he looks so sad it makes Derek want to shift and rip into whatever made Stiles look that way. “All the times you've heard me talking about my plans with her, did you ever hear me talking about her as a person? I don't _know_ her, Derek. We were never even friends. I'm pretty sure her _neighbors_ know her better than I do.”

 

He feels like a shitty friend for it, but deep down Derek can't say he disagrees. Not that he'd ever tell Stiles that. “But you could _get_ to know her.”

 

Stiles shakes his head and then sits up, his blue-tinged golden tail curled under him, fins dangling off the side of the dock. “Maybe. But it would have to happen more organically than this. She's rejected me every single time I've tried to talk to her, there's literally no reason to think she'd accept if she ever decided to listen for long enough for me to even ask her out. Besides, it's moot. Didn't you just hear me say I don't even think I love her?”

 

Derek did, but he's trying really hard to be supportive here, and sits up next to Stiles. “I just... what do you want me to do? I mean... can I help you somehow? Just tell me how, and I will.”

 

“I know you will,” Stiles says softly, sending him a weak smile, and it makes Derek's heart ache for him. “But I think what I need right now is time to figure out where that leaves me. I... I don't even know what kind of people I might be into, other than her. I've defined my whole identity according to her for so long, now. I think I might need to do some soul-searching.”

  
“Okay. Well. If you need someone to talk to, you know where to find me,” Derek says, his own frustrations of the day forgotten in the face of Stiles' problems.

 

Stiles finally turns around properly to face him, and this time his smile is a lot more sincere. “Thanks. That really means a lot to me.”

 

Daringly, Derek puts an arm around his damp and naked back, pulling him close for a half-hug, savoring the small intimacy while it lasts. “Always.”

 

* * *

 

Derek can't say exactly when it happened. At some point after he and Paige broke up, definitely. All he can be really sure of is that one night he was watching Stiles gesticulate, the sun going down behind them as usual, and suddenly realizing like a punch to the gut that he loved Stiles. Loved him, adored him, wanted him. And it was probably the most desperately sad moment of Derek's life, because Stiles has only ever had eyes for Lydia.

 

One time Derek even met her. She's everything Stiles has said, and more, definitely worthy of Stiles' adoration. Except for how she seems determined to ignore him. In fact she seemed much more inclined to talk to _Derek_ , up to and including the point of giggling at everything he said, at which point Stiles rushed them both out of the room, and things were supremely tense for a while.

 

But Derek has done his best to keep things locked down. Stiles is his best friend, and he's determined not to ruin anything. In a way it was easy when he knew there was no chance, that it was doomed either way. Now that Stiles has evidently given up on Lydia, Derek doesn't know what to do.

 

“Dude, oh my god, guess what,” Stiles says excitedly as he levitates his body out of the water and onto the dock, landing with a graceless slap when he loses concentration early as usual.

 

“Uhm. You got a new bicycle for Christmas?” Derek guesses, their usual game of insulting each other's racial differences feeling like a comfort while his feelings are this problematic.

 

“No, and I was just about ready to ditch the training wheels, too. But no, dude, this is _better_. I got my first kiss!”

 

Derek turns his head slowly to face him, feeling lead drop in his stomach. “Really?”

 

“Yeah!” Stiles says, beaming and fidgeting like he always does when he can barely contain his excitement.

 

“From who?” Derek asks, struggling to keep his voice even.

 

“Danny! Who would have thought! I mean, I knew he was into guys, but I never would have guessed he'd like _me!_ ”

 

Derek sticks his hands into his jacket pockets so Stiles won't see his fists clench. “I'm... happy for you.” Stiles isn't even looking at him, too busy rambling about how it felt, how it happened, every little detail, and Derek wants to _drown_ himself. “So, are- are you and Danny dating now?” he cuts in at some point, and Stiles stops dead to stare at him.

 

“What? No, no it was just a kiss. A _fantastic_ kiss, sure, but we're not...” he trails off, looking at Derek strangely. “Why are you being weird?”

 

“I gotta go,” Derek says, his emotions going haywire, and all his instincts are telling him to run, so he does. He has no idea what to do about anything anymore.

 

He can feel Stiles' eyes on the back of his neck as he speed-walks up the hills and through the trees to his house.

 

* * *

 

“Derek! Someone here to see you!”

 

His mother's call brings Derek out of his room, but he stops dead on the stairs when he sees Stiles in the entryway. It's always such a strange experience to see Stiles with legs, and Derek can't help but stare for a minute, already missing the shimmery, golden tail that matches his eyes so well.

 

“Hey. You... haven't been to the dock for a few days. I got worried,” Stiles says, hands moving restlessly in the pockets of the hoodie he always wears when he takes human shape.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Derek knows it's a woefully inadequate answer, but he's spent the last three days trying to figure out how to be around Stiles, now that he's out there kissing people who aren't Derek.

 

Stiles chews his lip for a moment, and shifts his feet. His balance is fine on two feet, always has been, but Derek always worries that he'll fall. “Can I... can we talk?”

 

Derek nods, and heads back upstairs, not looking back to see Stiles follow. They meet Cora on the landing, and she greets Stiles with a hug and some frankly unwelcome chitchat that makes Derek want to kick her down the stairs, but instead he bites down on his irritation, and continues to his room. He's on his bed, back stiff against the headboard when Stiles finally manages to untangle himself from Cora, and enters Derek's room, closing the door quietly behind him. He sits down in Derek's desk chair, fixing him with a worried look. “What's up with you, Derek? Was it... was it something I did or said?”

 

It technically is, but it not fair to Stiles to say it, so Derek shakes his head, picking at his thumbnail. He feels like a sulking kid, and at nineteen he supposes he kind of still is.

 

“Then what?”

 

“It's not you,” Derek mutters, and tries to think of a way to explain how he's feeling, but nothing comes to him, and he shakes his head in frustration.

 

“Was it because I kissed Danny?” Stiles asks, voice so small and cautious that Derek wants to bang his head against the wall for having caused it.

 

“No. Yes. Kind of.”

 

“I didn't think you'd be grossed out by dudes kissing.”

 

Derek barks out a laugh, because oh god, Stiles couldn't possibly be more off the mark. “I'm not. That's not it.”

 

“Then tell me what it _is_ , then, Derek. Please?”

 

“I don't... know how.”

 

Stiles' jaw tenses, and he curls even further in on himself, making himself smaller in a way that Derek absolutely hates. “Could you try? For the sake of our friendship? We... _are_ still friends, right?”

 

“That's the thing,” Derek says, voice feeling like sand in his throat, sluggish and coarse. “I was trying... I mean, I didn't want... I don't think I can stay friends with you.”

 

Derek hates himself immediately for the stricken look on Stiles' face. “Why? What's wrong?”

 

“ _I'm_ wrong.”

 

Stiles gets up from the chair and sits down on the edge of Derek's bed, his face a grimace of worry, and heat radiating from his hip inches from Derek's calf. “Whatever it is, Derek, it's _not_ you. Okay? Whatever it is, we can talk it out, can't we?”

 

“I don't know,” Derek says miserably. “I honestly don't know.”

 

“Either way, I'm here for you. Okay? You can tell me anything.” He reaches out and puts his hand on Derek's, feeling so warm it's unreal, and Derek finds himself missing the chilled feel of his merfolk skin. “I'm still your friend.”

 

Something in Derek snaps, and he rips his hand away from Stiles' with a snarl, feeling like everything is collapsing in on him. “I don't wanna be your friend!” he growls, and Stiles just sits there, looking at him. No matter how angry Derek gets or how close to losing control he's come sometimes, Stiles never even jumps. Trusts him so much it makes Derek's heart ache. “I don't wanna be your _friend_ ,” Derek says again, feeling helpless, and hating how words are so difficult for him the minute they actually matter.

 

Stiles knows him, though. Knows how to read him, better than anyone, and he searches Derek's face with his clever eyes, taking in his tense shoulders, his grim expression and his tight frown. “Then what _do_ you wanna be?”

 

It takes Derek several long moments of trying to find words, his mouth opening and closing hopelessly several times before he has to let out a frustrated huff, clenching his teeth together.

 

“Derek. Please,” Stiles whispers, and god, Derek feels like shit.

 

“I just... wanna be your... yours,” Derek stammers, and it sounds ridiculous, nothing like the poetry in his head, the flowing lines and confident phrases that he wants to be speaking. But Stiles just looks at him, eyes wide, and a cautious smile growing on his face.

 

“Really?”

 

Derek nods, glaring at his own lap, because he doesn't know how to handle Stiles' beautiful eyes right now.

 

“Were you jealous?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Of Danny?”

 

“Yeah.”

  
“... but not Lydia?”

 

Of course Stiles asks the one question Derek had hoped to avoid. “Not really.”

 

Stiles chews his lip for a moment, but then sighs. “Because you knew it would never happen.” He shakes his head with a soft laugh. “You've always been a realist, Derek. And yet, you totally indulged me. You're a good friend.”

 

Derek can't help but laugh too, because this is his punishment. Come clean, as well as he's able to anyway, and all he gets for it is to remain Stiles' friend. But he supposes it's better than not having Stiles in his life at all.

 

“No, you _are_ ,” Stiles insists. “You sat there and listened to me yammer on about my feelings while you...” he trails off, and Derek kinda wants him to leave, but it's like he's run out of words completely now, and he just stares at his knees.

 

“You know,” Stiles says after a long pause. “I wanted to ask _you_.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“About kissing. I asked Danny if he knew anyone who'd be willing to let me kiss them, to find out if I'd even like kissing a guy. I didn't expect him to volunteer. But... I really wanted to ask _you_. But I didn't wanna risk ruining anything if it turned out I didn't like it.”

 

Derek doesn't know what to do with this information, and he crosses his arms over his chest, just letting Stiles say whatever it is he wants. It stings a little, though, that Derek missed out on Stiles' first kiss when he _could_ have had it.

 

“Derek,” Stiles calls, so softly, Derek has no choice but to look at him, helpless against that tone of voice. Stiles meets his gaze, eyes dark and half-lidded, studying him like he can see directly into Derek's soul. “Will you kiss me? Just to see if I like it?”

 

Everything stops for a moment, and Derek's jaw drops before he can catch it. His eyes dart around Stiles' face, searching for any hint of insincerity, and Derek's breath catches when he finds none. After that, all he can do is nod, and Stiles doesn't wait for him to lean in before surging up to capture his lips.

 

It doesn't matter one bit now that Derek wasn't the first, because kissing Stiles is _magnificent_ , and Derek feels weirdly like crying, his emotions making his throat tight and his stomach flutter. He clutches Stiles to him, hauling him in, and their knees bump together a few times. Which is somehow all wrong, and Derek parts their lips reluctantly. “Could you... I want...”

 

“Anything, Derek,” Stiles murmurs, nipping at his lip in an utterly distracting way. “Anything you want.”

 

“Could you take it off? The spell.”

 

It obviously takes Stiles a minute to realize what he's being asked, and he bites his lip nervously. “You sure?”

 

“I miss your tail,” Derek mutters, and he doesn't have time to feel weird about saying it, because Stiles swoops back in for another kiss, more desperate than the previous ones, licking hungrily at Derek's mouth until he barely knows which way is up. He's still dazed when Stiles finally pulls back and start ripping off his clothes. It doesn't even feel awkward watching it, because even when he's human clothes look so weird on Stiles, and Derek can't help the sigh of relief when the sweats finally hit the floor. A heartbeat later there's a heavy weight across Derek's legs, Stiles' powerful tail pushing them into the bedding, and Derek can't help the hungry noise he makes as he pulls Stiles close again. He feels colder now, making Derek shiver, but it's right, it's exactly how it's supposed to be, and Derek never wants to let go.

 

He lets his hands roam across Stiles' bare skin, always feeling a little damp, even when he's away from water, and Stiles shudders under his palms.

 

“God, it feels so good, Derek,” he sighs. “Does it feel good for you too?”

 

“Yeah. _Fuck_ ,” Derek curses, because there's no hiding it now, he's getting hard, his body responding joyfully to the touch he's been craving. He knows their bodies don't function the same way, and he isn't expecting anything to happen. Not ever, if Stiles decides he doesn't want to. Derek is fully prepared to do without.

 

But, evidently, Stiles is way ahead of Derek on that point, and as soon as he realizes what's prodding at his hip he grins into the kiss. “No kidding, huh?”

 

“Uh huh,” is all Derek can manage, because Stiles is grinding his hipbone into Derek's cock now, and it's glorious and _evil_. “ _Fuck_ , maybe... maybe you shouldn't-”

 

“Oh, yes I should,” Stiles purrs, hands sliding down to fondle at Derek's jeans, making his breath catch in his throat. “Unless... you don't want to? I mean... too fast?”

 

“I'm... I'm good,” Derek wheezes, hips twitching helplessly, knowing Stiles' amazing hands are so close. “Anything you want.”

 

“Really? You can back out anytime, you know. I'm probably gonna mess up.”

 

His fingers are teasing at the zipper, and Derek is gonna _die_. “I'm gonna make a mess of my _pants_ if you don't get them out of the way,” Derek grits out through his teeth, because he's starting to chafe a little bit now, and even the sting of his cock rasping against the seam of his underwear won't be nearly enough to hold off if Stiles keeps kissing and fondling him.

 

“Dude, that is _so_ hot,” Stiles sighs, and barely two seconds later his hand is on Derek's cock, and all he can do is throw his head back and pant, because _holy hell_.

 

“Stiles, oh _fuck_.”

 

“Am I doing this right?” Stiles asks against Derek's gasping mouth, nibbling at the corner as his hand moves up and down Derek's cock hesitantly. Obviously he has _some_ frame of reference, and Derek is definitely gonna ask about that once he's got functioning brain cells again.

 

“A little tighter, maybe- _jesus_.”

 

Stiles is nothing if not an eager learner, and he grips the shaft firmly and perfectly, and Derek moans so loud he's most certainly gonna get the hairy eyeball from several family members later. But at the moment he can't find it in him to care, thrusting mindlessly into the amazing clench of Stiles' cool fist, faster and faster, until Stiles has to stop stroking and cling to him instead, just giving him something to fuck into while hanging on with a strong arm around his neck.

 

“That's it, Derek, that's it,” Stiles whispers against his lips, eyelids fluttering against his rapid breaths. “Do it, I wanna see, I wanna see everything.”

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Derek hisses, and comes in several powerful spurts all over his jeans and Stiles' hand, and he's still trying to catch his breath when Stiles puts his hand up in front of his face, examining the mess before darting a tongue out to _taste it_. Sweet heavens above, Derek isn't gonna survive this.

 

“Kinda bitter,” Stiles comments, and Derek giggles hysterically, because how did it get to this point in less than an hour?

 

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

 

“It might grow on me,” Stiles says, and then wipes his hand on Derek's already ruined jeans, which is fine, because that means Stiles can use his hand to hug him close again, and kiss Derek some more.

 

“It doesn't have to,” Derek mutters, trying to convey how serious he is about Stiles never doing anything he doesn't want to. “It doesn't matter to me.”

 

“It matters to me, though. I wanna try _everything_.”

 

Derek has to admit he's in a similar position, and he's already looking forward to finding out how to return the favor. The only thing he knows so far is that it can only happen in water, so it'll have to wait. But he can wait. He's done nothing else for a few years now. He's a pro at this point.

 

“Me too,” he says, and it's amazing how Stiles blushes, considering how shameless he was mere minutes earlier. “If you want me to.”

 

“You bet I do, you owe me now,” Stiles says smugly, and Derek cuddles him closer.

 

“Cash in anytime you want.”

 

And he does. Boy, does he ever.

 

End.

 

 


End file.
